“Dream bigger, Natalie.”
I heard God’s whisper as I stood overlooking the backyard of the house we were staying in while we were in Baños. Giant, beautiful mountains towered over me. The river’s rapids were strong but their sound was ushering me into a quiet moment. I couldn’t have imagined this weekend being more perfect if I had tried.
“Dream bigger, Natalie.”
I felt God’s nudge as we sat and listened to the love story of the couple we stayed with while we were there; both had lost their spouses late in life and, despite living in different countries, were connected through a friend who said she felt like God was telling her these two needed to meet somehow. Wesley ran an orphanage in Ecuador, Donna was working in the states. She knew that God had something else for her to do- she just didn’t know it would involve falling in love again, getting married, and doing ministry in a foreign country, all in the latter part of her life.
“God, if you call me to a life that’s different than what I’ve envisioned, I’m going to be really mad at you.”
This is a conversation I’ve had with Him. Multiple times, actually. Thinking about it now, I’m picturing God chuckling during this conversation with a little brat child essentially saying, “Even though you’re God, I’m me, and I know what’s best for my life.”
But last week, doing dishes in the foundation we’re working at, I felt Him say to me:
“Let go of what you think your life is supposed to look like.”
Ugh. Great. There goes the control I like to imagine I have on my life. This sentence gave me anxiety for a good few days, and then Baños happened, and God reminded me that I have no reason to be anxious- but I do have every reason to dream.
My dreams haven’t even been impressive lately. They’re simple, and stable, and definitely not God-sized. I used to dream God-sized dreams. I want to do that again, but I don’t even know how anymore. A part of me doesn’t want to dream any bigger than I have been; if I choose the easy life, the life with no risk, no pain in the name of growth, then I’m guaranteed just that: an easy life. I struggle with confidence in my abilities but an easy life means never finding out just what I’m capable of. I have so many weaknesses, and I don’t want those to be exposed.
But in 2 Corinthians, Paul writes: “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
I don’t want my dreams to make sense. Ultimately, I want my dreams, as well as my life, to reflect the glory of God. I want them to be huge and seemingly impossible through the eyes of man- so that someday I can look back and say, “Look what Jesus did. That’s the God I serve.” Man, now we’re talking. That’s something I can get behind.
I don’t want my dreams to make sense because Christianity doesn’t make sense. A God who doesn’t charge people with the task of climbing a mountain to Him. He came down to us. A Savior who tells His people that the first will be last. That to gain everything, we must lose everything. That we must daily pick up our crosses, the very same instrument of death that Jesus suffered by. That in living this way, we will find overflowing joy, purpose, and hope. Nothing about Jesus made sense, and I don’t want my life to make sense. To hell with the American dream; I want the God dream.
